2026-01-05 18:54:58
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TIME FOR THE MONSTER TO HUNT
The night air tasted like gunpowder and victory.Dante stood outside the smoking fortress, watching families collapse into each other's arms. Tears. Gratitude. Relief so thick it was almost suffocating. Around him, his operatives maintained perimeter security with military precision, but the war—at least this battle—was over."Mom!"Adrian's voice cracked as he stumbled toward Isabella, confusion and terror written across his nineteen-year-old face. She caught him, pulled him close, and something inside her shattered. Years of secrets. Years of lies to keep him safe. All of it spilling out in broken sobs against his shoulder."I'll tell you everything, baby," Isabella gasped. "Everything."Dante looked away. Some reunions weren't meant for his eyes.James Westfield approached, his usual corporate composure fractured by raw emotion. His daughter clung to his side, still shaking. The billionaire extended his hand, gripping Dante's with surprising strength."I owe you twice now, Phantom.
DEATH IS TOO EASY FOR YOU
Cole's scream ripped through the facility like a wounded animal."FIND THEM! Find the real hostages NOW!"His voice cracked on the last word, desperation bleeding through the rage. He grabbed the nearest operative by the collar, slamming him against the wall hard enough to crack the concrete."Search every room! Every corridor! They're HERE somewhere! They have to be!"But Dante's team was already moving through the bunker like death itself. Each corridor they cleared became a graveyard. Syndicate operatives tried to mount resistance and died before completing the thought. Others, seeing their comrades drop with surgical precision, threw down their weapons and raised their hands.These were professionals. They recognized when they were outclassed."The Phantom," one of them whispered, voice hollow with the weight of legend meeting reality. "We're fighting the actual Phantom."Morale crumbled like sand. These men had been told they were elite, that they were untouchable, that the Syndi
HUNTED BY THE PHANTOM
The Syndicate headquarters looked like something built to survive the apocalypse.Converted military bunker, buried three stories underground, concrete walls thick enough to withstand direct missile strikes. The only visible entrance was a reinforced steel door that could stop a tank. The perfect fortress for someone who had enemies and knew they were coming.Outside, in the darkness three hundred meters away, Dante's forces assembled with the silent precision of predators preparing to hunt. Night vision equipment turned the world into shades of green. Suppressed weapons rested in hands that knew how to use them. Forty-seven operators, spread across four teams, waiting for a signal.Inside the mobile command center—a converted surveillance van with more technology than most government operations—Scarlett, Sophia, and Isabella clustered around Vincent's monitors. Screens showed thermal signatures, building layouts, communication frequencies."Plan is simple," Dante's voice came through
TIME TO CALL IN OLD DEBTS
Dante studied Scarlett with the cold assessment of someone evaluating a weapon that might explode in his hand."Why would you help me?"The question hung between them, heavy with implications and three years of complicated history. Scarlett's carefully constructed mask—the socialite, the victim, the wronged wife—finally crumbled completely."Because my mother is a monster." Her voice cracked on the word. "Because Marcus is dead and I realize now he never loved me. Because everything I thought was true is a lie and I can't—I can't keep being who I was. That person was built on quicksand."She pulled out her phone with shaking hands. Her fingers swiped through old messages, stopping on a conversation thread from four months ago. Marcus's name at the top, cocky and confident even in text form."He sent me these." She turned the screen toward Dante. "Thought he was impressing me. Bragging about the Syndicate's power, their resources. Look."Dante took the phone. His eyes scanned rapidly—c
JUST THE WAY YOU MADE ME SUFFER
Dante's face did something Isabella had never seen before—it showed actual shock."Reaper." The name fell from his lips like a curse. "That's impossible."Isabella grabbed his arm, her own terror momentarily forgotten in the face of his reaction. "Who is that? Dante, who is that man?"Five years ago, somewhere in the mountains between hostile territories, Dante had led a black ops team into hell with a simple objective: eliminate a terrorist cell before they could detonate a dirty bomb in a civilian population center.The mission had been textbook until the end. Breach. Secure. Extract. The team had moved like a single organism, every member trusting the others with their lives.Cole Savage had been his second-in-command. Brilliant. Ruthless. The kind of soldier who could calculate kill zones while eating breakfast and never lose his appetite. They called him Reaper because death followed him like a shadow.The terrorist cell had been neutralized. The bomb had been secured. And then C
COMEBACK FOR REVENGE
Thirty minutes later, Dante stood in Victoria's study with Isabella beside him. The moment she saw the wall of photographs, her face drained of color so completely she looked like a ghost."That's impossible," she whispered. Her hand found the doorframe, gripping it like her legs might give out. "Victoria and I never met. Not once in twenty years."Detective Morrison pulled a file box from Victoria's desk. It was thick, overstuffed with papers and photographs that spilled out when he opened it."Mrs. Hayes had extensive files on you, Miss Ashford. Dating back twenty years." He laid out the contents with the careful precision of someone presenting evidence. "Financial records. Property purchases. Travel itineraries. She knew everywhere you went, everything you did."Isabella's breath came in short, sharp gasps. "How? Why?"The files told a story that made Dante's blood run cold. Photos of a younger Isabella with Leonard Hayes—stolen moments in cafes, walking through parks, hands intert
